


The sweet apple blushes at the end of the bough

by olympia_m



Series: Between two places [21]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: M/M, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia_m/pseuds/olympia_m
Summary: Oriya is ill, and Feilong is supportive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Still in the land of slow, practically plotless fics. The title refers to a fragment from a poem by Sappho because I can't think of titles in general, and so I steal from what I read in the rest of my free time.

Oriya still felt miserable, but being at home was better than being in a hotel room. If only Ueda could be convinced to go back to guarding his father. The man was useful, but he had all the Kokakurou maids to take care of his needs now. Like feeding him, and bringing him tissues when he ran out, something that happened often these last two days. 

“Thank you,” he said when Ueda brought him tea. “I wonder, doesn’t Father mind you being here?”

“The Boss asked me to look after you.”

“Look after me or keep an eye on me?”

Ueda looked insulted. “Young Master…”

Oriya would have told him to cut that crap, but the need to sneeze was stronger. And sneeze again, and again, and again, for more than three minutes while Ueda looked at him fondly. 

“Look after you,” Ueda smiled, taking the full bin with used tissues out. A little later a maid brought more tissues, and an empty bin. 

Oriya fell back on the bed. He had forgotten how he hated being ill. 

“Although, if the Young Master is grumpy, then the Young Master is well,” Tami-san said from the door. Ueda stood behind her, hiding a smile behind his hand.

Oriya glared at them. 

“Yes, he is definitely well,” Tami-san said. 

“I am…” He sneezed. “Damn.” He sneezed again. 

“Perhaps not all that well,” Ueda commented, still smiling. 

“Then it is good we have you, Ueda-san, to keep an eye on the proceedings tonight, and until the Young Master is well again and able to resume his duties,” Tami-san said, patting his arm. 

“Fine, you do whatever must be done,” Oriya agreed, grumbling.

“Good,” Tami-san nodded, and left. 

“Ueda? I’m sorry. I was out of line earlier. I know I can’t be of any use if anything happens. Thank you for your help.”

Ueda closed the door softly. He approached the bed and knelt beside Oriya. “I know you think I am your Father’s man, and I am loyal to him, but you are his son, and so I am loyal to you. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Oriya rolled his eyes upwards. “It doesn’t matter. I have no secrets from him.”

“It matters to me, that you know it.” Ueda bowed deeply. “We all believe in you, Master Oriya. We all want you to take on your Father’s place when that time comes.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I know.”

Ueda sat up. “Young Master, you asked me to remind you something when you were well. Are you well enough to listen?”

“I think so.” He sneezed. “Yes.”

Ueda smiled for a moment. “You said that Muraki is trapped between two worlds. Between here and there.” 

Oriya froze. “Ah, yes, that makes sense,” he said slowly. The lack of body, the lack of spiritual residue. The death gods’ inability to find him.

“The doctor is as good as dead, then?” Ueda asked. “Or… Would Master Oriya do something stupid?”

“No, I wouldn’t. I don’t have that power.” Who knew what kind of energy Muraki had harnessed and used to make his way to the underworld? An energy Oriya had not, and would never manage to have or control, even if he knew what Muraki had done. Although he suspected something of what Muraki must have done, and that left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Ueda still looked concerned. 

“Yes, he is as good as dead,” Oriya muttered. 

“I am sorry for your loss,” Ueda said earnestly. 

“Thank you.” It didn’t feel real hearing it. “Muraki’s wife, Ukyou, will be coming tomorrow. Can you look after her? She is…”

“The Young Master’s special friend, I know. Of course I will.”

Oriya smiled. “Thank you. I should tell Feilong to go back. This is no place for him.”

The door slid open at that moment. “Why? Because it’s a museum?” Feilong grinned and then his smile fell. He sat next to Oriya, opposite Ueda. “We’re finally talking about the elephant in the room? About time.” 

“What elephant?”

“Muraki, of course.” He pointed at Ueda. “You look like a man with a mission, and you,” he squeezed Oriya’s hand, “you look sad. Is it because they stopped searching for him although they found nothing?” 

“They did?”

“You didn’t know? Oh, I thought Ueda had told you.”

Ueda looked at Oriya strangely. “The Young Master asked them to stop on the first morning we were at Tokyo.”

“Oh, I must have been very ill to have forgotten that.” Oriya ran his free hand through his hair, feeling embarrassed and wanting to hide. “I’m sorry for troubling you so much.”

Ueda and Feilong shared a look. 

 

Oriya started sneezing again. 

“Maybe it’s time for some soup?” Feilong suggested. 

Ueda bowed slightly and left quietly. 

“Maybe it’s time to get more sleep,” Oriya said. “I’m feeling tired, my nose is blocked, and my head hurts.”

“Poor you,” Feilong hugged him and helped him lie down. “Want me to stay with you?”

“No, I’ll fall asleep in five minutes. You should go out and enjoy yourself.”

“Want me to make arrangements?”

“For what?”

“Muraki’s funeral.”

“No.” Oriya’s voice broke. “There’s no body,” he murmured, hiding his face in Feilong’s lap. And the same cycle of wondering and waiting would start again. If only Muraki had finally died, damn him. Or if he’d lived, damn him. What power did Muraki have over him to make him cry like this? 

Feilong started petting his hair. Oriya hugged him, focusing on the soothing touch rather than the ache inside him. Feeling grateful, so very grateful. So calm.


	2. Chapter 2

Feilong shifted, willing his hard-on to subside. When Oriya was running a fever he had no such problems, but now that he was better, but emotionally vulnerable, Feilong felt like a teenager. Having Oriya’s sweet mouth so close to him, even over his clothes, didn’t help. He continued stroking Oriya’s hair. He really ought to calm down. 

The door opened and Feilong mentally slapped himself. The last thing he needed was Ueda to see him all excited. He smiled at the man. “Look at that, Triad leader being reduced to pillow.” A diversion was in order. “That smells nice, what is it?”

“Rice soup with mushrooms.”

“Looks very warming. Give it to me.” He gently moved Oriya down on the bed, and focused on the delicious smell from the bowl, instead of the delicious warmth of his lover. 

“But…”

“Don’t tell me that they can’t make another bowl of soup in a fucking restaurant? Oriya is sleeping and that smell makes me hungry. Give me.”

Ueda did. 

“Oh, this is good,” Feilong said after the first spoonful. “But that’s to be expected, right? How long have you known Oriya?” 

“For twenty years.”

“That’s a long time.”

Ueda nodded. He didn't look like he wanted to continue this conversation, but then again, he always looked like he didn't want to talk to anyone but Oriya. 

Feilong decided to respect that and finish the soup. “Thank you for looking after him,” he said as he stood up. Best to stay away from temptation when Ueda was in the room. “I’m going out. Call me if anything happens.”

“Of course.”

He closed the door quietly and leaned against the wall. It was colder in the corridor, and that helped him calm down, finally. What was wrong with him? Oriya was ill, hadn’t asked to be distracted from his grief this time, but all Feilong wanted was to have him. He forced himself to look at the garden and think of work. 

Even in the heart of winter the garden looked beautiful. Timeless. A delight for the eyes. Different shades of evergreens, bright winter jasmines in a corner, and clusters of striking white and purple hellebores. Maybe he should have a garden in his penthouse; potted plants were no substitute for this. 

Or maybe not. He’d rather expand the library. 

But the garden had given him an idea, so he went to find Tami-san, that old harridan who kept Oriya in line. 

Her office was in the other side of the building complex, near the entrance, something that Feilong appreciated immensely. The farther she was, the less likely it was to come across her accidentally – especially if he kept to the rooms reserved for Oriya and his friends.

Feilong knocked once and then opened the door before she could answer.

“It’s you. Come in,” she said so politely it was obvious she mocked him.

“Thank you,” Feilong replied just as politely.

“Have a seat.”

“No, thank you.” Those Japanese traditional chairs that weren’t real chairs were a perversion of the nature of chairs. 

“As you wish. What can I do for you?”

“I have a business meeting in two days. I’d like to have it here. At eight o’clock.”

“We’re fully booked,” she said, not even glancing at her calendar.

“Please,” Feilong smirked. “As if you don’t always have a room or two free. Otherwise, I’ll have the meeting in my room. Or better yet, Oriya’s room. The view is better from there.”

Tami-san narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. In two days either Oriya will be working at the time of my meeting, or if he’s still ill I can have him glare from a corner.” He grinned, imagining that. He could threaten to braid Oriya’s hair, or even cut it. That would get him glaring spectacularly.

She tapped her fingers on the desk, although her neutral expression didn’t change. “You think this is a joke?”

“No,” he said, still smiling. 

She studied him. “Will you be requiring other services for your business associates,” she finally asked with a smirk, “or would dinner be enough?”

He hadn’t thought of that. Stupid of him, all things considered. “If the deal goes well, yes, why not?”

Tami-san opened a slim book and made a few notes. “And if the Young Master is well, would you like him to entertain you?”

Feilong froze. That bitch was trying to get him to say ‘yes’, so that Oriya would hate him. He could see the glint in her eyes when she asked. “No, that won’t be necessary.” 

“As you wish,” she replied, sounding slightly disappointed. “Leave everything to me,” she said. “Just let me know if you will need the house special when you are done,” she smiled. 

Feilong nodded. “Thank you.”

“Interesting doing business with you,” she said. “Next time don’t give me such a short notice.”

Feilong shrugged, and went out. Interesting or not, his prospective partners would be impressed, and that was the important thing. 

&*&*

Akihito came the following day at lunch time. Feilong heard his laughter long before he saw him. “What brings you here?”

“New Year picture cards. Oriya has commissioned me to take photos for them.”

Feilong grinned. “Does he know it?”

“Eh?”

“He did a lot of things when he was ill that he doesn’t remember now. It’s kind of amusing.”

“That sounds kind of mean, Feilong.”

“Maybe, but it is funny.” He smiled. “And cute.” He didn’t know why but seeing Oriya all embarrassed turned him on. Especially these last two days that Oriya sneezed and sniffled, and let his hair down, and looked like a lost, miserable puppy. He didn’t look his age, he didn’t act his age, and Feilong wanted nothing more than to push him down and _defile_ him, and watch him blush all over. 

“I don’t think I want to know,” Akihito grinned. 

Feilong laughed. There was nothing to know, anyway. This was his problem, until Oriya felt better and gave him permission to do more than kissing. “Actually, it’s even funnier.”

“Why?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “Should we go see Oriya?”

Akihito followed him without a moment’s thought. Feilong glanced at him. How long ago had it been that he had taken the young man against his will? That he had believed that there was no love between men, only sex, and that sex itself was a means to demean, humiliate, and abuse someone? How long ago that Akihito slowly made him change his mind? 

It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d moved away from his old self and had become someone else. Someone kinder, perhaps – to those that mattered, at least. Someone who couldn’t take without asking – or without being given permission, anyway. Someone different. 

Akihito caught his glance and smiled at him. 

Feilong smiled back. He liked seeing Akihito smile at him, even when he knew that the young man’s warmest smiles were reserved for someone else. He liked seeing his new self reflected in Akihito’s eyes. But he liked it even more when Oriya looked at him just like that – like he was priceless and utterly wonderful. 

“Hello, Akihito,” Oriya said a moment later, closing his book, and turning his attention to the young man. “What a surprise.”

Akihito’s eyes widened. “You weren’t joking.”

Feilong shook his head. “No, not at all,” he laughed.

Oriya looked at them. “Eh? I did something I forgot again, didn’t I?” There was the beginning of a blush right there.

Feilong nodded, still grinning. 

“Does this mean I’m out of a job?” Akihito looked concerned. 

Oriya frowned, playing with his hair. “Ah, I must have asked you to take pictures for the New Year’s Cards,” he smiled after a few moments. “How wonderful. Have you thought of any themes? Something other than the usual ‘new year’s sign.’ That’s so boring.” He sneezed. “Come, tell me your ideas. Have you had lunch yet?” 

“Erm, no.”

“Great. You’ll join us.” He stood up, wrapping himself in the heavy, black kimono he had been using as an extra blanket. 

Feilong took a deep breath. He wanted nothing but to lay Oriya bare on that black garment. Later. Later. Screw later. “Akihito,” he said softly, “why don’t you go ahead?”

Akihito smirked. “Yes, I know my way around here.” He closed the door behind him. 

Feilong stopped Oriya with a hug. He rubbed his nose against Oriya’s and then kissed him. “Are you better?”

“I’d say so.”

“I want to make love to you. Tonight.” He pressed himself against Oriya, letting him feel how hard he was. “I really want it.”

Oriya slipped his hand between them. “I had no idea,” he said, stroking him gently over his trousers. “I’m sorry.” 

“Well, you had your reasons,” Feilong smiled, pushing against those teasing fingers.

“You could say I was indisposed,” Oriya smiled back, undoing Feilong’s belt. 

“We’ll make Akihito wait.” Not that he really cared. 

“You waited longer than him.” The sound of the zipper going down sounded far too loud in the quiet of the room. 

When Oriya slid down on his knees, and looked up at him, freeing Feilong’s cock with his right hand, Feilong grinned. “Now I know you’re better.”


	3. Chapter 3

Akihito hadn’t taken two steps when he saw Ueda carrying a tray and heading towards Oriya’s room. He stopped.

“Let me through,” Ueda said. 

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you. He’s with Feilong,” he grinned.

“But I brought him lunch.”

I think he’s eating something else right now, Akihito was tempted to say. “He said something about joining him for lunch, so I think that means that we’ll have lunch at one of the dining rooms. Let’s find a nice one, what do you think?”

Ueda looked like he was about to bypass him for a few moments, but in the end he decided to turn around. “Follow me,” he said.

These two will so owe me for this, Akihito though. Ueda made him uncomfortable. And then he saw Tami-san, who was probably the real manager of Kokakurou and he wished he were back at the train station. Last time he’d been here, he’d tried all the ramen places there and he’d been looking forward to visiting his favourite restaurant again.

“Ah, the Young Master is well enough to have lunch with us? Great. Follow me.” She led them to one of the smaller rooms. “Sit.”

Ueda sat down next to Tami-san. He put the tray he carried down carefully and studied it as if it held the secrets of the universe. 

Akihito tried to sit as far away from Ueda as possible. A minute later the silence started to get to him, but he didn’t want to talk to Ueda or Tami-san, even if he were able to think of something – which he wasn’t. 

Two minutes later he started studying his nails. Perhaps he ought to go see a professional manicurist for a change. Asami had someone come and do his nails once every two weeks, and he really had such marvelous-looking nails. 

Three minutes later he started wondering if he should go find Oriya and Feilong, drag them to lunch, and discretion be damned. Why didn’t either Ueda or Tami-san seem equally annoyed? Ueda must have been a hell of a poker player. As for Tami-san… the idea of her gambling brought a shiver down his spine.

When Oriya Akihito almost jumped. Feilong waved at him. 

“You can serve lunch, Akiko,” Oriya told someone, probably a maid skulking in the corridor. 

“If the Young Master is out of bed, then he must be well,” Tami-san said. She took out a notebook.

“Ah, it seems we’ll be having a working lunch,” Oriya smiled. “Do you mind, Feilong? Akihito?”

Akihito did mind, but if he said so, would Oriya be offended? He looked at Feilong. 

“I don’t mind,” Feilong replied. 

Akihito bit back a sigh, and looked at his nails again while Feilong sat down next to him. 

Oriya smiled again, sitting across Feilong. “Ah. In that case… How were things last night, Ueda?”

Ueda pushed the tray in front of Oriya. “Mostly quiet. I had to drag one of the idiots of the public safety committee to his car last night, and an idiot from the department of health beat up one of the girls but I stopped him before he went too far.”

Akihito frowned. He’d forgotten what this place really was. Who were the people Ueda was talking about? 

“Thank you.” Oriya said, looking down for a while. When he looked up, he smiled at Ueda. “Thank you. How bad?” Ueda looked at him blankly. “How badly did he beat her?”

Ueda shrugged, making a face. 

Akihito doubted Ueda had stopped in time. He was that kind of bastard. But it would be interesting to hear more about this story. Corrupt politicians’ night of debauchery ends in hospital. It would make a nice headline. 

Oriya put his hand on Akihito’s right arm and squeezed him lightly. “You’re here as my friend, not as a reporter. Don’t be a reporter now, and I won’t be the manager of this place.”

Akihito narrowed his eyes. Then he grinned. “Or you’ll do what? Threaten me?”

“Among other things,” Oriya smiled. 

Akihito studied him. Oriya’s smile was cold, he realized suddenly. He shook his head. “Don’t worry, if I wanted to be a reporter here, I could have done it months ago. It’s just interesting, how calmly you all talk about people beating people up. Or killing them,” he said, staring at Feilong. “It’s not normal.”

“Your definition of ‘normal’ is still quite narrow,” Feilong said. “It’s endearing,” he smiled, patting Akihito’s other arm.

“Don’t say that. You make me sound like a puppy,” Akihito glared at Feilong. He made to stand.

Oriya squeezed him tighter for a moment and then let go. “My apologies, Akihito. Please, stay.”

Akihito turned towards him. “I had forgotten you’re like them,” he said softly. If Asami and Feilong were beasts, Oriya was a quiet one, like a spider at the centre of his web. That didn’t make him less dangerous. 

“Takaba-san is a good person,” Ueda said suddenly, just as quietly, nodding. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Why?”

For a moment Ueda looked at Akihito as if he were an idiot. Then he schooled his expression, and he showed nothing. “For my behavior towards you in the past.”

“I see.” Akihito stared at him. Perhaps Ueda was like that because he kept company with beasts, and not because he was evil himself? Did it matter? He had his apology, finally. He smiled. “Okay, then, apology accepted.”

Akiko opened the door at that moment. 

“Akiko, right on time,” Oriya smiled at her. “Thank you.” 

Akiko was graceful and precise in her movements. But the smell coming from the covered dishes was more interesting to Takaba. He opened the lid of the soup bowl and smelled deeply. He should wait until everyone had been served, right? 

“Tami-san,” Oriya said as soon as Akiko left, “I hired Akihito to take photographs so we can choose something for this New Year’s cards. This means he can move freely wherever he wants in here.”

“That is not appropriate,” Tami-san complained. “We should choose something traditional, like every other year.”

Oriya snorted. “Yes, yes, and my father will hear of this. I heard that before.” 

“He will.”

“And we’ll argue about it. Or not.” Oriya stared at Tami-san. “We both want to protect this place. Trust me, and let me protect it as I see fit.”

Ueda bowed deeply. “Master Oriya, come back with me and join the Boss,” he shouted. 

Oriya covered his face. 

“How embarrassing,” Akihito snickered. 

Feilong nodded, and started laughing. 

Tami-san smiled. “Maybe we can go back to business now?”

Akihito took this as his cue to start eating. So did Feilong. 

“Of course.”

“We are fully booked for the next months, and it would be good if the Young Master made a few appearances,” Tami-san said, still smiling. 

“We’ll see.”

Akihito looked up in time to see Feilong wink at Oriya. He hid his smile by taking a sip of his tea. 

“Of course I have kept a few rooms aside in case someone visits, or if we must accommodate an unexpected meeting.” She glanced at Feilong.

“Ah. Here?” 

Feilong had a charming smile when he wanted. Akihito still found it strange to see him exhibit such loveliness. “My prospective partners will be more willing to close a deal with me if we meet here, don’t you agree?”

“Maybe?” Oriya frowned. “But why book a room? You could have used my office. It’s not like I use it all the time.”

Feilong’s eyes slid to Tami-san. He smiled for a second, a small, triumphant smile that made Akihito curious. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the old witch, or the only one that the old witch didn’t like. 

“When is your meeting?”

“Tomorrow evening.”

“Ah. Want me to come along? I can sit in the corner and glare at them if they annoy you.”

Oriya had the eyes of a puppy that was eager to play. Akihito focused on his food before he would start laughing. But not before he caught another triumphant glance towards Tami-san from Feilong. 

“I think I can manage,” Feilong said. 

“At least have a few of your men over. You can’t be seen without an entourage.”

“You think?”

“Yes, it will add to your prestige.”

“I think it will make me look weak.”

“Then, let me be there. I will feel better knowing I have your back.”

“You’ll come anyway, won’t you?” Akihito could hear the fondness in Feilong’s voice. “Fine. You can play my bodyguard tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“And I will watch over Master Oriya,” Ueda said with another deep bow. 

“No, you will make sure no one makes any trouble elsewhere.”

Akihito looked up. Ueda looked crest-fallen.

“Protect my house, Ueda.” 

Ueda bowed so deeply his forehead hit the floor noisily. “Yes, Master.”

Feilong rolled his eyes upwards. Oriya hid his face again behind his hands. Maybe he wasn’t just like Asami or Feilong, Akihito decided. Oriya was embarrassed far too often. That didn’t make him any less dangerous in his own way. 

“You look like someone who wants seconds, Akihito,” Oriya said. 

Damn? When had he finished his food? Did he really eat so quickly? “No, I’m fine.”

Ueda stood up. “Leave it to me.”

“Thank you.” Oriya finally uncovered his bowl. “Ah, rice soup. How wonderful.” His smile at the soup was genuine. 

Feilong shifted slightly. 

“So,” Akihito said, “about the cards. Did you have any ideas in mind?”


	4. Chapter 4

Oriya was lounging in his bed, pretending to read, while Feilong was reading when Ukyou arrived. 

“Go to her,” Feilong smiled when he looked at him. 

He threw his book down and kissed Feilong deeply. “Thanks.”

“I’ll keep myself busy if you feel the need to stay with her all night,” Feilong continued with the same smile. 

That smile deserved another kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Oriya?” Feilong stopped him as he opened the door to leave. 

“Yes?”

“Nothing.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Oriya said winking. “Do wait up, please.”

“I will.” Feilong ran his fingers across his chest. “I’ll be waiting.”

Oriya groaned. How did Feilong make his body forget his age? 

“She’s at the usual room,” Rika told him. “I’ll bring the food in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

He went up the stairs. The usual room. Nothing ever changed here, did it? 

“Hello,” he said, opening the door to her room. 

“Oriya-kun.” Ukyou looked more tired than ever. She approached him, hugged him, and started crying. “I can’t…”

He hugged her back and let her cry. If he were lucky, she’d cry herself to sleep, and he wouldn’t have to lie to her.

As if luck and him were friends. 

Ukyou moved away from him a while later. “I was told there was no body this time either.” She looked at him, tears still spilling from her eyes. “Does this mean…? What does this mean?”

“It means… I don’t know.”

She studied him. “You know,” she said softly. “Is he gone?”

“I think so.”

“Can’t you do something?” 

If he did, assuming that he could do something, he probably couldn’t live with himself afterwards. “I’ll do my best to find out where he is,” he lied, smiling at her. 

Ukyou gave him a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“Excuse me,” Rika said behind the door. 

“Ah, food.”

“Will Oriya-kun…” She shook her head, smiling. “Oriya, you don’t have to join me.” 

“But…”

She opened the door letting Rika in, and then pushed Oriya out. “Feilong is here, isn’t he? You should go back to him. I’ll just eat and sleep. I’m that tired. But you should be with your friend.”

“Ukyou.”

She smiled. “I didn’t spend much time with Muraki, but all the time I had with him was most precious to me. I’d give anything for more time with him. But you have your friend. Don’t waste more time with me.”

“Ukyou, you’re precious to me. My time with you is not wasted.”

“I know,” she nodded, hugging him again. “That’s why I want you to go to Feilong. We can spend time together later.”

Rika slid by them without a word. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” She took a step back. “This place always gave me a sense of peace.” She touched the door gently. “Knowing that Kazu-kun has also stayed here, and known peace,” she smiled. “That is most precious to me.”

Oriya walked into the room with her, and went to open one of the cabinets. “Last time he was here, he left these.” Had the bastard known this would happen? He took out Muraki’s coat and gave it to Ukyou. 

Ukyou hugged it. “It smells of him.”

Oriya nodded. “He left all sorts of things here. So he wouldn’t have to bother bringing a suitcase, or so….” He swallowed, unable to finish. The liar. 

Ukyou wrapped herself in Muraki’s coat. She looked even more fragile in it. “Thank you, Oriya,” she said, standing on tip-toes and kissing his cheek. 

Oriya froze. She had no idea. The old him would have felt such despair at his hopeless love, he would have wished for death. This him just felt incredibly sad. 

“It’s so warm. Like him,” Ukyou continued. She sat down, and looked at her food. “I should eat and sleep.” She hugged herself and smiled at him. “I know Oriya will find Kazu-kun, because, whatever would we do without Oriya?” Her eyes flashed silver for a second, and her voice echoed strangely.

Oriya shivered. “Feilong is waiting,” he told her.

She nuzzled Muraki’s coat. “This makes me think he’s here with me,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oriya.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

He closed the door softly behind him, still feeling cold. What had Muraki done? Was this part of his plan or something else? Thank all the gods that had brought Feilong in his path; he was the only simple and pure thing in his life. 

Feilong put down his book when he walked into his room. “You’re back early.”

“She’s tired and needs to rest.”

“She chose a good place to do that, then.” 

Oriya shrugged off the heavy kimono he was wearing over his clothes and let it fall on the floor. His haori was next. He started untying his belt.

Feilong laid back. “I see.” He stretched. “You could make this sexier if you wanted.”

“A strip tease?” He threw the belt down. “I doubt it.”

“I’m just saying,” Feilong grinned. 

“No. That’s like dancing, as far as I’m concerned.” He pushed his kimono down his left shoulder and then his right, moved his arms a little and it slid down the floor. “I can’t do it.”

“You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

Oriya looked at Feilong’s groin. “As if you need teasing,” he smiled. 

Feilong stroked himself slowly over his clothes. “That’s true.” 

Untying his hair was next. He let some of it fall over his chest, and then took off his undergarment. 

Feilong looked at him hungrily, and he felt himself blush. “Come here,” he said. 

Oriya did, climbing over Feilong’s lap. He hugged Feilong, foreheads touching. “I love to feel your breath on my face,” he whispered. 

“I love that you blush before you touch me,” Feilong whispered back. 

“You make me so.”

Feilong kissed him hungrily, turning them around and pushing him down on the bed. “Do you want me to distract you?” he asked gently, kissing his collarbone.

“I want you.”

Feilong laughed. “That’s easily done.” He kissed his way down his chest, twisting his fingers in Oriya’s hair. 

Oriya let his hands rest on the top of Feilong’s head and closed his eyes. This way he could feel better Feilong’s weight on him, the way he undulated as he moved down his body, the way his lips burned their path down his skin. This way he could feel better each heartbeat, and how his blood rushed to make his cock fill with desire.

“You won’t sleep on me, will you?” Feilong said, and he could hear the smirk. 

“If I do, feel free to continue.”

“Fuck,” Feilong murmured. He took Oriya’s cock in his mouth a moment later, and started sucking him artlessly and hurriedly. Focusing only on that. 

For Oriya this was more exciting than if Feilong had been making an effort. He ran his hand on Feilong’s hair, and then put them down, before being tempted to push Feilong’s head down to take him deeper. Too exciting, it seemed. “I… I … please.” 

Feilong moved up and started licking the head for a few moments. Then he lowered his head again, and it was just too much; too much heat, too much suction, too much sensation. He couldn’t control himself anymore. 

For a moment he forgot everything but Feilong. His smell, his weight, his heat, his mouth, his hunger. If he died at that moment, he’d die happy. 

When he opened his eyes Feilong was staring at him with a smile. A trickle of white ran down the corner of his mouth and Oriya wiped it with his thumb. 

“You’re still blushing,” Feilong said. 

“I love you.”

“Of course you do,” Feilong laughed and fell down beside him. 

Oriya hugged him. Feilong snuggled against him and kissed him. He tasted weird. “I’m sorry.”

“Taste off.”

“Who cares?” Feilong kissed him again. 

“How do you want me?”

Feilong laughed again. “I came. In my fucking pants.” He suddenly stopped and looked at him softly. “I guess that means I love you too.”

“Oh, that makes me glad,” Oriya smiled. 

“Idiot,” he grinned. 

Oriya reached for the duvet and covered them. Feilong reached for the light and turned it off. Oriya felt him shift and turn as he took his clothes off, and then pushed them away. And then felt him return to his side, and hold him. 

No, he corrected himself. At this moment he could die happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Feilong had done nothing but read reports since after breakfast in preparation for his meeting, feeling he could have worked harder but… such was life. Having Oriya fuss over his appearance was perhaps the best part of his day so far. 

“This is very relaxing,” he said as Oriya combed his hair. “I’ll fall asleep right here and all my hard work will have gone to waste.”

“I’ll wake you up if you do.”

He smiled, leaning back and closing his eyes. “How was your day?”

“Quiet. We had some nice yellowtail delivered so that’s for dinner tonight.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“Very,” Oriya said dryly. “Do you want your hair tied up or down or how?”

“Maybe a braid?” Only because he loved the sensation of Oriya’s fingers through his hair. 

“As you wish.” Oriya pulled his hair up and kissed his nape. 

Feilong shivered. “You really want to make me late, don’t you?”

“No.” He kissed him again, and then started separating his hair in strands. “You just smell so nice, and your hair is so soft.”

“You want something of me, Oriya?” 

“Just you. Always.”

“You do want to make me late.”

“Far from it.”

Feilong smiled. Liar. Or maybe…. He thought of the glimpse he’d caught of Ukyou that morning; she’d looked so forlorn staring out of the window. She’d spent the whole day in her room. Oriya seemed to have stopped grieving, but maybe he hadn’t. “I think maybe I can stay a little longer?”

“You can stay as long as you want.”

Yes, and he could buy a house here, and move his base of operations and…. He was dreaming again. He was the one needing to be distracted now. “Make the braid tight, please.”

“That’s not that good for your hair.”

“It’s fine every once in a while.”

“If you say so.”

“My hairdresser says so.”

“Mine would disagree.”

Yours is useless, he wanted to say, but then again, Oriya’s hair was so long and glossy, and he didn’t want anything else than to untie it himself later and run his fingers through it. “Maybe yours has a point.” 

“And yours too. Your hair is so lovely. I could play with it all night,” Oriya sighed. “All done.” He stood up and offered his hand to Feilong. 

Feilong didn’t need help, but Oriya liked to give it anyway. What was the harm in indulging him? He accepted it.

Oriya guided him to a room at the back. “No one will disturb you here. I think it’s almost time. I’ll go see if your guests have arrived.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Oriya pushed him back. “They have to come to you.”

“Ah, my Master of Etiquette, I bow to your knowledge.”

Oriya snorted. Feilong heard him mutter something like ‘Go over a mountain, go over another mountain,’ as he left the room. Crazy person, he smiled. 

It was a nice room, he decided as he sat down. That vase at the tokonoma looked like something he should recognize. Hadn’t he seen something similar in the museum last time he visited? The scroll was obviously old too. Winter garden, of course. 

He started re-reading the report on Torres. A clever man who rose quickly through the ranks. A man who’d probably understand how profitable an alliance would be for both of their groups. 

“Excuse me,” Oriya said softly before opening the door. 

He let Torres and his three men step into the room, gestured for them to sit opposite Feilong and then knelt to Feilong’ left. 

Torres raised an eyebrow. He said something, and his associated on the left frowned. Torres nodded. 

“Your picture does you no justice,” the associate translated. 

Feilong had heard this so many times he’d probably have a fortune if they paid him in coin instead of compliments. It was easy to keep his expression blank and wait until Torres got over it. And if he didn’t, well… then he wasn’t as clever as Feilong had thought.

One of Torres’ associates whispered something in Spanish, while leering at Feilong.

Torres shrugged. 

Feilong had seen that too. He didn’t speak Spanish but he could imagine something of what they’d said. This he didn’t like as much, but he could deal with it. 

“I hate cleaning blood off the tatami mats,” Oriya said to the translator. “Tell him that.”

“My Boss meant no offence,” the translator replied. 

“Tell him that.”

The translator did. 

Torres laughed. 

The associate who’d leered at him stood up, looming over Oriya. He grinned and said something in Spanish.

“Flowers should be quiet,” the translator said. 

“Flowers can cut,” Feilong said. “Torres, we’re here to talk.”

The translator did his job. 

Torres replied. “I’m not used to dealing with she-men,” the translator said. 

Torres’ associate reached for Feilong, still grinning. Oriya grabbed his wrist, shifted, and brought him down in front of Feilong. The man looked comically shocked. 

Feilong pressed his hand against the man’s throat. He pressed hard, just because he could. “I’m not used to being insulted,” he said.

Torres smiled approvingly. He said something, sounding pleased.

“These rumours were also true,” the translator said. “Good. Now we can talk.”

Feilong let go of Torres’ associate. “About time.” He was looking forward to the day he’d be old enough to not be considered pretty anymore. Then he wouldn’t waste work time trying to prove his manliness or fend off advances. 

&*&*

“I don’t like it that you decided to work with them,” Oriya complained when Torres and his associates had left. “In your place, I’d get rid of them and push the translator forward. Then I’d make a deal with him.”

“That would take time. And a lot of interfering.”

“It would be better than dealing with someone who wanted to test you at your first meeting. Or, better yet, you could make a deal with a rival group. That would teach them a lesson.”

Feilong laughed. “You’d make a good advisor. Better than a bodyguard, and that says something.”

“Pass.”

“Thank you for tonight. I could have managed without you, but it was easier with you.”

“Really?” Oriya smirked. 

“Of course.” Feilong stretched. “I started off as a grunt in my father’s organization. I handled such situations before. I killed for the first time when I was thirteen.” Why did he feel proud of that? 

Oriya’s expression changed. “You must have had such a sad childhood.”

“And you had a happy one, but you’re the saddest person I know.”

“True,” Oriya said, looking sad indeed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But it’s true. My childhood was shitty.” He shrugged. “But it was what it was. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Apology accepted.”

Feilong kissed him. “I don’t want to be something that makes you sad.”

“You’re the only thing, no, the only person that makes me happy. Especially when you’re honest with me.”

Feilong kissed him again. “I’ll start again. Thank you for today. Your help was valuable. You should come with me, and be my bodyguard all the time.”

Oriya snorted. 

“I was wondering, what was that thing you had said earlier. Go over the mountain? Go over another mountain? What was that about?”

“It’s from a song that felt appropriate – in some ways.”

“Can you sing it to me?” 

“It’s late.”

“You’re concerned about the noise? Or are you feeling sleepy?”

“Neither. Ah, the things we do for love,” he laughed as he stood up. 

“I feel like I should bring the sake,” Feilong muttered. He stayed where he was. It had been a while since Oriya last played music for him. He missed that. 

Oriya brought his shamisen. This song was faster than anything else Oriya had played for him before. Interesting. It became even more interesting when he started singing, because it started like a song, then it became this quickly narrated story, like he was gossiping in the middle of the street and he should be going, but he really wanted to talk at the same time. In fact, sometimes it was too fast for him to understand all the words, and then there were these random words that made no sense. It was fun. 

“You know a happy song,” he laughed when Oriya was finished. “I liked it.”

Oriya blushed. “Well, it’s from the South…”

“The land of perpetual happiness. You don’t believe in that here in the old capital.” 

“Eh….” The wind suddenly picked up. Like a living thing it howled against the porch and the roof. Oriya smiled. “I think you’ll like this one too. It’s also from the South.”

“Thank you.” Feilong smiled. A successful business deal, Oriya playing for him, being inside a warm room in a cold winter night. Yes, this was happiness. He stood up. “I’ll go get some sake. And when I’m back you’ll play that other song for me again, and walk me through the lyrics. I didn’t understand everything.”

Oriya smiled and Feilong stopped on his way to kiss him. Yes, this was definitely happiness.


	6. Chapter 6

Akihito knew that breakfast time was probably the best time for catching Oriya and showing him the pictures he’d taken. One of the maids showed him where he was, and he was about to slide the door open when he heard Ukyou.

“I heard you last night.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She laughed. “No, I didn’t mind. It was nice. I hadn’t heard you sing Otemoyan in years. In fact, I think last time I heard you sing that was… ”

“Years ago.”

“Yes. ‘Our village is full of busybodies,’” she said wistfully. “‘I’m so in love with you, head over heels, though I can’t confess,’” she continued. “You were in love with Kazu-kun, weren’t you?”

Akihito took a step back. 

“It’s alright. He’s lovable, isn’t he?”

Akihito wouldn’t exactly say that. 

“Is that why you looked after me? Oh, Oriya,” she sighed. “No wonder you know how much I miss him.”

When she started crying Akihito decided to turn around and leave them. He bumped into Feilong. “He’s with Ukyou,” he said, stopping him.

“And?”

“She found out that Oriya was in love with Muraki once.” 

Feilong snorted. 

“You knew?” He smiled. “Of course you did.”

“Best to leave them, then,” Feilong said, turning. “That’s a discussion that’s at least fifteen years late. What’s that?”

“Suggestions for the picture cards.”

“Let me see.”Feilong opened the door to the room next to him. “Ah, it’s all clean. They are very efficient here. How long before someone comes in to bring us breakfast?”

“Five minutes?”

“I bet it will be less than that.” Feilong checked his mobile and showed Akihito the time. “Time starts now.”

“You’re on.” Akihito sat down and started spreading out the pictures.

Two minutes later there was a soft, “Excuse me,” behind the door, followed by, “I will bring breakfast in a minute.”

“This place is full of busybodies,” Akihito said. 

Feilong smirked. “Told you. What do I win?”

“Eh?”

“We had a bet, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but… fine, what do you want?”

“I want you to take my picture. A good one.”

Akihito smiled slowly. “Ah.”

“Indeed,” Feilong grinned. 

“After breakfast?”

“Yes, why not? The sooner the better.”

Akihito had a feeling he would regret it, but it was best to get it over and done with. After all, it was just a picture. How bad could it be?

&*&*

An hour later Akihito wanted to eat his camera. Feilong was probably more photogenic than all the models he’d worked with in the past together, but he was also the worst model ever, opinionated and refusing instructions. He was also a dreadful exhibitionist. 

“I don’t think Oriya will appreciate a picture of you naked.”

“Why not? He appreciates me enough like this,” he said stretching his arms and thrusting his hips forward. “I think I should oil myself first.”

“No, please, don’t.”

“Yes, you’re right, if I decide to wear one of Oriya’s kimonos and stain it, he will kill me.”

“You could start by wearing something now, perhaps.”

“I didn’t think you were such a prude.”

“I’m not, but I don’t want to see your dick.”

“Why not?” Feilong stroked himself. “It is a nice dick, if I say so myself. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“Maybe that’s why I don’t want to see it now.”

“But Oriya might want to see it.”

Akihito shook his head. He’d rather take pictures of cats. 

Feilong went back to opening the various boxes they’d brought from the storeroom. “What about this one?” he asked, pulling out a heavy black kimono with plum blossoms. “That’s seasonal.” 

“It’s a woman’s kimono.”

“Mai said Oriya wears it every now and then.” Feilong traced the flowers with his fingertip. 

Akihito took a picture. With his hair down his toned back and his wiry arm, Feilong looked like a warrior of old, but his gaze was soft. As if he wasn’t complicated enough, the contrast between him and the luxurious fabric at his feet was great. 

“Maybe this one?” He picked up a rich, dark grey with dainty, yellow flowers all over. “No, not my colour.” He let it fall back in the box. 

“I think Oriya will kill you when he sees the mess you’ve made.” Even he knew you were supposed to be careful with these things, and fold them carefully when you had finished using them. That was why he only owned a couple of yukatas.

“Maybe that’s it,” Feilong grinned, and started taking them all out. “Akihito, make the bed.”

“I’m not your…” maid, he was about to finish, but Feilong glared at him and Akihito moved. 

“Second wardrobe, third and fourth shelves,” Feilong said before he could ask where the futon and the covers were. 

He opened the wardrobe, took them down, spread them, tried not to think that the bedding probably cost more than all his furniture, and when he done, he found Feilong staring at him.

“It was a stupid idea,” Feilong said, surrounded by swathes of fabric. “You can put everything back.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re offering?” Feilong smirked. 

Akihito looked away quickly and started gathering everything. “At least put something on.” 

Feilong snorted, but when Akihito finished tidying up, he found him wrapped in a dark blue kimono over a white undergarment. 

“That’s better,” he said. 

“Yes, but now I think you should make the bed again.”

“What?” he screamed.

Feilong gave him a satisfied grin. "Quick. The picture will need a backdrop."

It would be a long day.


	7. Chapter 7

As usual, real life had to take precedence. “Tao is getting anxious to have me back,” Feilong told Oriya when they were having tea. Feilong had been calling Tao every day to check up on him, but this was the first time that he heard Tao distressed all those days. Hearing him sound almost lost made Feilong ache.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed,” Feilong smirked, failing to imitate Oriya’s ‘ah’ and how it sounded uninterested, dismissive and curious at the same time. “I have to go back.” 

“Of course. When?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” Oriya made a face. 

“The longer I stay the harder it will be. Don’t you ever feel the same?”

“I…” Oriya started making more tea. “I don’t know. It’s always difficult for me,” he said, focusing on the matcha scoop. 

Feilong shrugged. “Well, it can’t be helped.”

“That sucks.”

“We’ll call each other, as usual.”

“I know.”

“But it’s not the same,” they both said at the same time. Feilong laughed. “Join me for Christmas or New Year?”

“We’re ridiculously busy from now until… I don’t think we ever stop being busy, but the time around New Year is always bad.” 

“Just think about it? New Year in Hong Kong is spectacular. Fireworks, light shows, concerts.”

“I think Tami-san will break my legs if I dare ask for another leave.” He took a sip from his tea. “I suppose I should start delegating. Ueda did a good job minding the place and looking after the girls while I was ill. I could ask Father to spare him, and maybe Ishikawa too. And I could hire someone to help Tami-san and me run the place, deal with food deliveries and menus and changing the decoration.”

“Yes, that sounds good to me,” Feilong smiled. “That way you’d have a bit more time for me.”

Oriya stared at him, and Feilong felt warm. He put down his cup. “Finish your tea, or leave it, I don’t care. Just do it fast.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you, and I don’t think you’ll appreciate making love in your precious tea house.”

Oriya finished the tea in one go, and looked guiltily around. “I ought to clean up,” he said as he got up, and extended his hand toward Feilong. 

Feilong stared at it. A strong hand. And then at the rest of him, deceptively delicate under that flowery coat. “Screw tradition.” 

“Did you have to use that word?”

Feilong smirked. Oriya pulled him up. He laughed feeling giddy and turned on and restless all at the same time. What madness this thing between them was? He didn’t care. He wanted more.


	8. Chapter 8

Oriya tried to make himself finish sorting Akihito’s pictures. The young man had declined his offer to stay until the end of the week, and had hurried back to Tokyo after lunch. Either he had been too disappointed to realise what Kokakurou was, or he missed Asami. Not that he blamed him either way. Kokakurou was rotten, and he too missed Feilong already, so he could understand. 

What could Feilong be doing? He’d called to say he’d landed, and that he was going to do little the rest of the day, but when Oriya had called Tao to let him know Feilong was going back, Tao had mentioned something about a party for his return. So, Feilong was probably busy with that, and Oriya couldn’t call back, or risk breaking the truce between him and Tao. 

Oh, well, Feilong would tell him later. 

He really couldn’t focus. He left the photos as they were, and decided to make his bed and go to sleep. So what if it was not even seven? He was … not tired. Just feeling off. And maudlin. And missing Feilong. And hating work. 

He unrolled the futon, feeling suddenly dizzy. Great, he had given himself a headache. He threw the pillows down, and an envelope flew down from between them. 

He picked up it. ‘Open me,’ was written outside in Feilong’s precise handwriting. He did. 

The first picture was of Feilong lounging on this bed, leaning on one arm while wearing Oriya’s clothes, a white undergarment and a blue kimono. No belt. Hair loose. Looking confidently at the camera. 

The second picture showed Feilong in the same clothes, still on his bed. Only this time, his clothes were carefully arranged to show Feilong’s toned body, and his erect cock. Smirking at the camera. 'Why are you not here yet?' was his expression. 

Oriya dropped the pictures, feeling suddenly very warm, and knowing that if Feilong was there, he’d laugh about him being all red in the face. Feilong was trying to kill him, he was certain of that. 

He picked up the photos. Again in Feilong’s hand, ‘Which one do you prefer? Akihito and I made a bet,’ was written behind the first. And ‘This is just for you now. What have you done to me?’ 

Oriya pulled the duvet and wrapped it around himself as he lay down. It still smelled of Feilong. He closed his eyes, taking in the scent. Just for him… They’d never really discussed monogamy, even if they were emotionally committed to each other, and kept telling each other ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ in the heat of passion. He could live with Feilong taking others in his bed, but knowing that he didn’t… ah, that made him so glad. So very glad. 

A moment later he sat up, realizing what the other note said. At this rate, he’d burn from embarrassment. Oh, no, Akihito had taken those? No wonder he’d looked so uncomfortable this morning. Oriya had to call him and apologize. But maybe he could look at the pictures first a little longer.

Which one did he prefer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now. There will be a next story at some point. Maybe sooner, maybe later, it all depends on real life and how that goes... Thank you for reading so far :)


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